


Dear John

by teatearsandbbc



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Reichenbach, Reunion, minor johnlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 04:35:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teatearsandbbc/pseuds/teatearsandbbc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock writes a letter to John explaining and apologizing for the Fall</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear John

I tried to come back, John.  I did.  I stood there and watched you cry and my arms ached with the need to wrap you up in them, tell you it was okay, everything was fine.  But he was there.  Watching.  Moran.  I had to keep you safe, John.  Even though his master was dead, Moran still pursued you, convinced beyond all reason it was Moriarty’s last wish that you die.  I could not allow that.  You would survive losing me.  You were, and are, so much more than I ever have been.  You are strong and independent and gentle and so very human.  You would be hurt, but you could move on.  I have nothing outside of you.  You are everything I am and without you, I would wither away and die.  And it hurt to do this to you, John.  It hurt me so very much.  Seeing you cry broke my heart.  But it was better than seeing you bleed.  After that day, I lost Moran.  It took me six months to track him down again and another six to remove the danger he posed.  Every day, you filled my mind, John.  Every day that I had to crawl out of bed and face the hell that was my life, your smile and your eyes and your beautiful, beating heart filled my head and I found the strength to continue.  Do you know I never once smoked during that year?  Not a single time.  I’ve even stopped using the nicotine patches.  And I ate and slept regularly.  Three meals a day, at least six hours of sleep at night.  No matter where I was, I did that for you.  Sometimes my search brought me back to London.  Those were the hardest times.  You were so close and the desire to walk back into 221 B Baker Street, climb those stairs, and sink down into that chair across from you was so strong it physically hurt me.  My stomach would cramp and my head would reel with the need to come bursting back into your life.  But that would bring Moran’s strike and I wasn’t ready, wouldn’t be able to stop it.  So I waited.  Some nights I would sneak into the flat, slip into your bedroom like the ghost I was and just watch you for a minute or two.  I saw the way you tossed, the bags under your eyes, heard your little muffled whimpers into the pillow and they spoke volumes to me.  You were hurting, worse than I had ever seen you.  One time, you turned towards me and your eyes opened, just for a moment.  My heart stopped and I stole away as quickly and quietly as I could.  I was so afraid you had seen me, but you must have simply written it off as another dream.  My search continued, uninterrupted.  But now he’s gone, John.  I made you safe and now I can return.  All I want is to come home, to 221 B, to you.  To settle back into our quiet, mad life, the way it was before a man named Jim tore down our world.  This last year has hurt us both so very deeply, but with you, the edges of that hurt begin to scab over.  If your life has healed over that hurt and no longer has a space for me, I understand and I promise, I will not plague you again.  But if you can let me come back, I promise I will never leave you again.  I miss you, John, and I owe you a thousand apologies.  I hope you can forgive me.

 

Yours

 

SH

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments and suggestions! I can be found on Tumblr at the same username (teatearsandbbc)


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